


Black and Blue Constellations

by HaveAGoodeDay



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Claiming Bites, Established Relationship, F/F, One Shot, Oral Sex, Quickies, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18081044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveAGoodeDay/pseuds/HaveAGoodeDay
Summary: Cordelia can't find anything that covers up her and her girlfriend's nighttime activities - and Misty isn't even trying to help solve the problem.





	Black and Blue Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> A little short bit of foxxay getting it on ;)

 

A closet full of clothing - all thrown into a pile in the middle of the walk in room, and colorful floral patterned skirts thrown carelessly across a rack of modest black heels. In the middle of it, rubbing her forehead with her pointer finger and thumb, Cordelia Goode sighs loudly in her cotton set of white underwear only. Racks of outfits; and not a single turtleneck to be seen.  _ It’s not like they’re the hottest spring fashion,  _ the blonde thinks bitterly, kicking away fabric that’s wrapped around her ankle.  _ In fucking New Orleans.  _

 

Her pale freckled neck feels a pleasant sort of sore as she moves her palm down to press down on the fresh, round bruises that adorn her throat and collarbone. The full length mirror allows her to see just how dark they’ve faded to. “Misty…” Cordelia  _ tries  _ to grind out, but the familiar name has a way of bringing a smile to her face. Even if she’s about to greet the incoming freshman for the new semester at the academy covered in love bites. 

 

“Yes, darlin’?” The breezy, light tone of the swamp witch comes floating in from their bedroom. The closet door swings open wider with the aid of magic, and on the other side has Misty tugging the duvet of their bed up to the pillows. She doesn’t tuck it in - and the pillows are lopsided as she pats the comforter in place. “You need something?” 

 

_ I need you to stop biting me!  _ Cordelia wants to tell her, but as she watches her girlfriend twirl on her feet to face the vanity behind her her tongue feels a bit too heavy to say anything at all. Misty picks up a bottle of perfume, her fingers wrapping delicately around its crystal neck. Misty spritzes twice in the space between them, and the tassels of her red dress sway as takes a large step through the cloud of fragrance. A step closer to Cordelia. The pretty floral scent carries in the air, and Cordelia frowns without the ability to make it convincing. “I have nothing to wear.” 

 

“ _ Cher,  _ I’m not going to be the one complaining if you’re not wearin’ anything.” Misty retorts. Her bare feet gracefully step one in front of the other, and her hip cocks against the doorframe of the closet. Her arms cross playfully, the lacy sleeves hugging her figure. “Why don’t you wear that awfully cute top? The one with the daisies?”

 

The said blouse is one of the few left on a hanger, lone in its ironed and untouched state. Cordelia lets out a huff of air, her cheeks coloring red as she explains, “Maybe if  _ someone  _ could control themselves when I said  _ below  _ the neck, I could!” 

 

Misty’s head tilts to the side, her messy curls all spilling over her shoulder with the smug expression painted across her features. The open windows nearby let in the harmony of songbirds outside. “I didn’t hear you complainin’ last night.” 

 

The raise of Misty’s eyebrows makes Cordelia flustered - her voice stutters as she argues, “It’s not like I was thinking about that when you- when you-  _ when you  _ were doing  _ that!” _

“Doing what?” 

 

“Misty..”

 

“What?” Misty’s steps pay no attention to the pile of clothing they walk over as she approaches Cordelia. Their height difference makes Cordelia look up at her, and effectively keeps Misty looking down. The younger woman scans her gaze over Cordelia - over the stray flyaways of blonde hair, flickering down to her lips, then to her pushed up chest. Misty herself prefers a noticeable lack of a bra; but she  _ adores  _ the way hug of them on Cordelia’s breasts.  _ Though, I like them better without anything covering them.  _ “We did a lot of things last night.”

 

“I have to go downstairs.” Cordelia whines, feeling Misty’s palms come up to place themselves in the dip of her waist. Fingers fan across her skin. Cold upon the soft contact that tickles her sensitive sides.

 

“Spare me some time?” Misty asks; and with her blue eyes and blown pupils it's hard to deny her anything.  _ She could ask for the moon,  _ Cordelia doesn’t resist the urge to bring her hands up to cup Misty’s cheek,  _ and I’d find a way to get her that and all the stars to go with it.  _ Misty leans toward Cordelia’s hand, her slightly sunburnt cheek nuzzling into Cordelia’s touch. “You won’t be long for me, will you?” 

 

At Cordelia’s nod - Misty kisses her, seizes her waist and holds Cordelia in place to properly meet their lips together. The younger witch misses her mouth at first, kisses her on the side of her lips, and the gasp Cordelia lets out makes it so when she properly presses a open mouthed kiss to her, their tongues meet until Misty’s own fits itself on top of Cordelia’s. The supreme moans into her mouth - muffled and hitched. The erotic noise has Misty’s hips pushing toward Cordelia’s, pushing them back into Cordelia’s back hits the wall with a soft thud that surely shakes it on both sides. Not that they  _ care.  _

 

Misty’s too busy with the urgent business of biting Cordelia’s lip to remember who’s room that is; not that she cares at the moment. Or ever. Misty Day hardly apologizes for a thing - and making the love of her  _ many  _ lives feel good is not one of them. They part with a loud intake of breath, and Misty looks over the flushed appearance of the vision in front of her. Her left hand trails up, over Cordelia’s bicep, across her collarbone to draw light circles around each blackened love bite. The soft-hearted strokes make Cordelia tip her head back - it thumbs on the wall, too. The view, with Cordelia’s Adam’s apple bobbing as she swallows, makes Misty duck to lay wet kisses against the offered skin. The wet, warmth of her tongue drags a similar pattern as her finger. Though, with impatient sucking accompanying the drag of it. 

 

“M-Misty,” Cordelia hiccups, and her eyes  _ have  _ to fall closed when Misty’s gone from her view so suddenly, falling to her knees on the hardwood with enthusiastic intent. Hands previously on her hips change to arrange on her thighs. Dipping into the soft flesh to ease her legs open a bit. With nothing to grab but Misty’s hair, Cordelia’s fingers tangle in the mess of uncombed curls that make her groan with a brief glance down. The honey colored tresses that frame Misty’s face, her blue eyes rolled up to meet Cordelia’s and a well timed first touch of her tongue to Cordelia’s clit through the thin cotton of her underwear. The jump of her pelvis, the thrust of it out that Misty catches to push back against the wall. “Fuck, Misty.” 

 

_ I like hearing my name like that,  _ Misty wants to say, but finds her mouth occupied with the dampening material she bites down on. It pulls back with her slightly, and the soft snap of it as its elastic band returns with the release of Misty’s teeth sounds loud in the quiet room when compared to Cordelia’s soft, fast breathing. The cotton’s wet with her salvia, sticking to Cordelia in a way that makes Misty want to commit the sight to memory. 

 

Or, frankly, remember to do this more often. 

 

Begrudgingly, Cordelia  _ does  _ need to be downstairs soon, and if someone were to come knocking to locate her it would be a shame to ruin a perfectly good orgasm. So without preamble, Misty hooks her callused fingertips into the edge of her lover’s panties, and pulls the damp fabric aside lay lick a long, broad stroke upon Cordelia’s swollen clit. Her own legs feel a little weak, knees shaking as the blooming of sounds from Cordelia’s throat increases. Misty’s cheeks press into the warmth of Cordelia’s inner thighs, moving her head from side to side as she flicks her tongue in rapid succession. 

 

Sensitive, wet, and  _ longing  _ Cordelia vainly attempts to close her legs. “Misty,” She taps the younger woman’s shoulders with two shaky fingers, halting the unabating attention. Her body vibrates as Misty leans back on her knees. She takes a breath, and blinks quickly to clear her head before telling her, “I want you up here.” 

 

Misty licks her lips - she licks her damn  _ lips  _ as she rises off her knees. “Here?” The swamp witch asks with a self-satisfied smirk, and her face close enough that Cordelia can see the wet glint of herself around Misty’s kiss swollen lips. The supreme goes to clean her up. “Nu-uh,” Misty dodges the attempted action, “No, I want to watch you come, darlin’.” 

 

_ No kissing,  _ Cordelia sighs and rubs her legs together. Her lips draw down in a pout. Misty’s shoulder moves as she repostions her hand. Fingers poking into the sticky cotton of her panties; prodding to find a spot that makes Cordelia squeak and jerk in her arms. “ _ Fuck!” _ Cordelia swears when she does hit it. 

 

Circling Cordelia’s clit through her panties has the recipient a mess of blubbering moans and hiccuped repetitions of Misty’s name falling from her lips. The friction of the cotton, and the hurried pace Misty picks up is more than enough to drive her in a race toward the edge of her climax. However, the clock ticks in Misty’s head, and knowing their limited minutes she takes it upon herself to help along, 

 

“C’mon darlin’,” Her southern drawl is much more pronounced with her lowered voice; Misty places a kiss to Cordelia’s cheek. Sloppy and wet. “Come for me, ‘Delia.”

 

The command has its desired effect, for Cordelia seizes up in her arms, and Misty loops her free hand around the shorter of the two’s shoulders as she comes. Her hips buck and jitter against Misty’s fingers. Cordelia buries her face in the curve of Misty’s neck, a deep gasping breath that fills her nose with the scent Misty’s coconut shampoo. 

 

And as her legs start to twitch with aftershocks she bites into the tender column of Misty’s throat. Enjoying the Cajun’s guttural moan as a response. Cordelia flattens her tongue on the spot, and sucks a large circular hickey onto her girlfriend’s neck.

 

Breaking apart, a line of spit snapping between Cordelia’s bottom lip and the reddened spot, the Supreme nods her head with affirmation. 

 

“Now we’re even.”


End file.
